Farewell ~
by Triskell
Summary: Draco and Herm meet long after Hogwarts and remember...


Disclaimer: characters belong to J. K. Rowling. I write for a hobby only.

Author's Note: 

I WOULD RATE THIS AS PG-15! Allusions to dark themes.

It's just something that I came up with last night. Since there was no other way to get it out of my head, I typed it *winks*. Not betaed. No plot. 

~ * ~ FAREWELL ~ * ~

© Triskell, February 9, 2002

_"Come to visit me_

_Malfoy."_

I didn't think you would. It was too much to hope for, but then again, maybe not. You knew so much more about it all from the start. More than my guards, more than the Ministers, all those who were waiting to torture the truth out of me. But there are truths I won't ever tell. And you know. Only you.

Are you coming to gloat at the knowledge I'll soon be no more? Perhaps. I hear your footsteps echo in the corridor. I recognise them without a doubt. Too many years spent listening to them, hoping for them.

We were connected once, almost a life time ago. Do you remember?

The door opens, you come in, send the guard out with a curt nod. All business like – am I the only one who sees the fire in your eyes, the venom…the pain?

"Granger."

My voice must've sounded better sometime, though I couldn't say. I don't want to think back on the days when it still seemed as if I had a choice in life. Though I knew there wasn't any for me. 

"Malfoy."

I don't know what I expected, not this weariness, more hate. You're too soft and pliant, I could play a game and I could break you. No. Nothing could hurt you. You have died inside, haven't you? The night I sent the owl to you.

"How long?"

"An hour. They're preparing the…instruments." 

Muggle torture? How interesting. I thought they'd use all of the spells I've cursed my enemies with. Enemies. Such a hard word for those insignificant people I've known all my life, or better, my youth. I don't count my years with Voldemort's legions as life. It wasn't, not really. How can you feel alive when death walks in your wake?

You sit down? I didn't think you could still surprise me. Not after all those years when I've felt your intellect pitted against *_me*_. Against what I stand for. Stood for. I'm no longer a part of all this, not really.

"Remember?"  
  


How could I forget? I nod. I don't need to see the writing on the parchment. Smudged red ink. Very dramatic, isn't it? Did you think it was written with his blood when I sent it? 

"You needn't have told me."

"I love hurting you." 

Why do you smile? Isn't that what I've always done? Haven't I been guarded enough? All those nights, did you really look at me? It's hard to believe, even for someone who has been sustaining himself on dreams.

He left you, just like that. You went towards the forest and I followed you. A spectre in your wake. The devil following an angel. How pathetic. And then I seduced you, near the Whomping Willow on the forest floor. 

No shame in your eyes, no fear, moss on your robes, your pale skin, white little wisps of moss entangled with green, ranking into your long hair. You cut it. It fits the occasion. You look so much more strict and old this way. McGonagall in the making.

"Quit the crap, Malfoy. What do you want?" 

"Funny you should ask."

Again, that enigmatic smile of yours. You shouldn't smile at me. I am the monster that you hate. The bane of your existence, the only tangible part of Voldemort's in your grasp. Hate me. You must. Please.

"I can't give you absolution."

"Did I ask for it?"

"No."

_*Love me_.* I should have said it when we were younger, when I had the chance. But how do you phrase a request when you know your lover is heart-broken, doesn't care for anything but physical contact that no one else will give. I knew you were never with me in those stolen nights. Always at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Always the same place, the same look, the same sounds from your lips as we made love. Wrong word. No love in all our encounters.

"Back with Potter?"

The name stings you, your eyes sparkle briefly, with emotion. As if you were still alive somehow. You never ceased to fight, did you? And yet…

"He's in the past."

"Go back. Retrace your steps…"

"NO."

Do you really think I don't know why he pushed you away? I'm no fool, Granger, I realised that night when I watched him, stooping in the shadows to pick up a blue ribbon, a frayed bookmark of yours and held it, hiding it in his robe. I knew it was near his heart every single day from then on. It still is. How could any man who loved you forget?

You didn't speak to him again, did you? I know the answer, no need to ask. You hate him. And love him. As you hated me. And… *_loved*_ me?

"Go back to him."

He loves you, don't you realise? How best to protect what is dearest to you than by shunning it, pushing it away so no one knows how important it really is. In the Triwizard Tournament it was Weasley whom they took. Three years later, Voldemort was reaching for *_you*_. He felt it. And acted like anyone would. Like I would. Like I did.

"Harry's my past."

"And your future."

Don't shake your head, you mustn't let go, not now. You're so close to finding love again. You and Potter are meant to be. You can't have cared for Weasley that much. He was a spare, the lucky idiot who flung his heart at your feet, rebellious, daring. I envied him your love, but I knew he wasn't who you craved. You can't possibly have loved him so much…

"Time's flying. Want a sip?"

A water bottle, very small. Didn't they search you? No, of course not, why should they search one of the bravest, most competent witches of their age? Why would you bring anything but pain to me? Why are you offering me a single white round pill?

"Why?"

"You saved us…saved…Ron."

"No."

"Don't lie."

I shake my head, fervently. How could you guess as much? My note was nothing but a sneer, 'I got Weasley. He's dead.' There was nothing to read between the lines. Nothing. I made sure of that, damn you Granger, I made sure.

You aren't supposed to know why I did it. We tortured him for almost a whole week without end. He was wild with pain, broken, bruised, a mere shell, hardly living, but not yet so far from reason as to blurt out where your camp was. Where you were.

We had a shortage of Veritaserum. That was his…luck? He lived for longer than most other prisoners. But then…I knew he'd tell us all. He would've shamed himself, destroyed the thing he loved most. I loved most.

He didn't feel a thing, I crept behind him. *_Avada Kedavra*_. Such a simple curse, and so effective. I was downgraded, even whipped for my thoughtlessness. But no one dared to think of an ulterior motive for my killing him. Why you?

"Yes or no?"

I look at the pill, your hand. You touched me once. With many mixed emotions, never love. I wish I had been strong enough to fight against the path that lay before me. But I am, and always have been, a coward. And I followed in my father's footsteps. I lost you – though I never truly had you, did I?

"Yes."

You kneel in front of me. Don't worry, even if I could get out of these magical bonds I wouldn't hurt you. I couldn't strike you. Your head bends down, your short cropped brown hair brushing against my cheek.

"I can let you go."

"No."

I'd rather end this all than flee. Not that I'd have a chance. They would…

"My wand's in my left pocket."

You stand up, your whisper ringing in my ears. Your robe, dark red like dried blood, warm and satiny against my fingers. Like your skin against my body, pale in the moonlight, flushed and…

"No."

I could take your wand. But if I did you'd corner me. Standing in front of the door. My freedom for your life. So easy to explain away a death. Another murder. It wouldn't bring any more pain to me. Do you really think I could raise my hand against you? Can you still believe…

Your eyes are level with mine, you kneel down again, the whisper of a smile on your lips as you hold out the pill to me. The water bottle. I swallow. Did you mix the poison yourself?

"Why?"

For all that I know I will be dying soon, there is nothing but warmth in my veins, hot blood, pumped into my heart and out and in again, as if there was another morning for me to see.

"I loved Harry. But Ron was all I ever wanted. My heart, my soul mate, anything kitschy or clichéd you can think of."

"I don't understand…"

My speech is slurred, but my eyes are sharp enough yet to see you as you swallow the little white pill. Did I just gasp? You only smile, as enigmatically as you always did.

"I loved Ron as you love me."

How did you know? I never told you, never…

"Goodnight, Draco."

"Herm…"

My voice fails, my sight blurs but I feel you rest your head against my shoulder. To think I'm closest to you in death… my love, my angel…

Finis.


End file.
